thought industry – sharron sours lyrics
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before the atlantic, pacific desert
i used to travel to england for the holidays
oh, on yesterday a taxi cab stalled in the driveway
i was perched on the windowsill
grabbing snow in my hand to watch it melt
my eyes are green to warmth
a wine bottle snoozing with the snow
so pale the face became
gazing stoic from her backseat
wine, all heat within my cold
wine, lug me throughout my h-ll
what’s your name?
i trip around and drown in crowds
and the air was crisp while i p-ssed
through the trash of camden
i pulled my coat airtight
and walked towards the last garbage fire
it seems an hour ago
i missed the last train for hollyhead
across the can of fire
her face appeared barely alive
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